January 16, 2007

Manplus, We Had No Sex

One of my best friends forever (some people call this "BFF") fronts Man Plus. They're hipper than all fuck, so I thought I would curse them by writing a review of their current release, We Had No Sexthat they can use as is their want.

First, though, when googling "Man Plus" for pictures I found this, and am in love:ok. for serious now.

******************************************************

“We’re not really joking, which is the new irony,” Jared
Mills half-jokes, talking about lyrics from his Man Plus’ debut EP—the
excellent and promising We Had No Sex. He’s
right and he’s right: lyrics like “I cut myself to kill the man/ I am” would
cause a roomful of cringes if not delivered with wide eyes; the wink is the
music, driving guitars and manic proto-punk supporting a stoic punch line. This
is the new black.

Eight tracks and nearly twenty five minutes, We Had No Sex could be a mini-album if
not for the track by track genre jumping talent show. Lemonheads-esque “100
Sparrows Chirping ‘You S**k, You S**k!’” is upbeat, bittersweet (barely bitter)
radio rock. Immediately following, “Jacob the Skate” opens with cold
electronics launches into cut-down-the-road lyrics. That track-to-track
juxtaposition is the crux of the album; the wholly self-aware manic/depressive
performance is as utterly captivating as it is beguiling and perplexing

Man Plus is a strong unit, from heady songwriting to smart,
tight performances from Kyle Smith, Ben Findley, and Amanda Findley*. Any
musical restraint on these tracks is merely a vehicle for live
performance—where Man Plus is at its jaw-dropping best.

We Had No Sex is
exciting because of its flaws: sprawlingly both spastic and self-indulgent. A
full-length that manages to harness some immense songwriting talent while also
expanding “the new irony” of lyrical performance has the potential to be an
absolute masterpiece. I’ll be first in line to hear it.